“Indeed, sir,” said Jacob, “I’ll do my best; but I shall have to learn, and you must excuse a few blunders at the first. I shall manage the garden well enough, I reckon, after a bit, though I’m not certain which way the roots of the flowers grows in these foreign parts;—the cherries, I see, has their stones growing outside on ’em, and maybe the roots of the flowers is out in the air, and the flowers in the ground. As for the horses, I’m not so much of a rider; but I must stick to their backs, I reckon. They’ll be rayther livelier, some on ’em, I suppose, nor our old pit horses, as hadn’t seen daylight for ten years or more. But as for being a wally, you must insense me into that, for I don’t know anything about it. If it’s anything to do with making beds or puddings, I have never had no knowledge of anything of the sort.”
Frank was highly entertained at the poor boy’s perplexity.
“Oh, never fear, Jacob; where there’s a will there’s a way—and I see you’ve got the will. I’ll trust you to learn your gardening from Mr Oliphant’s man at ‘The Rocks.’ You must go and get him to give you a lesson or two; and if the seeds should not come up at first, I must take it for granted that you’ve sown them wrong side upwards. As for the riding, I’ll undertake myself to make you a good horseman in a very little time. So there’s only one thing left, and that’s the valet. You needn’t be afraid of it; it’s nothing whatever to do with making beds or puddings—that’s all in Mrs Watson’s department. What I mean by valet is a person who will just wait upon me, as you waited on Captain Merryweather on board ship.”
“Oh, is that it!” cried Jacob, greatly relieved; “then I can manage it gradely, I haven’t a doubt.”
And he did manage it gradely. Never was there a more willing learner or trustworthy servant—his was the service of love; and every day bound him more and more firmly to his young master with the cords of devoted affection. Frank returned the attachment with all the natural warmth of his character. He delighted in the rough openness, which never degenerated into rudeness or disrespect; for Jacob, while free and unconstrained in his manner, instinctively knew his place and kept it. There was also a raciness and good sense in his observations, which made Frank find in him a pleasant companion in their many wanderings, both on horse and on foot. Frank was always a welcome guest at “The Rocks,” where he learned to value and reverence Abraham Oliphant, and to feel a hearty liking for his sons and daughters. But his heart was over the water, and he felt that he could never settle alone and without Mary in that far-off land. He often wrote to his mother, and also to Mary. To the latter he expressed himself full of hope that he should be able to return home before many years were passed, and claim her for his own; but he never alluded to the cause of his temporary banishment, nor did he reply to the questions which she put to him on the subject of total abstinence, except by saying briefly that she might trust him, and need not fear.
“Jacob,” he said one day, as he concluded a letter to his mother, “I believe the mail leaves to-day for England, and these letters ought to be in Adelaide by three o’clock. You shall ride in with them, and bring me out a ‘Reporter.’ By the way, isn’t there any one in the old country you would like to write to yourself? Perhaps you do write, only I’ve never noticed you doing so!”
The colour flushed up into Jacob’s face, as he replied, with some confusion and hesitation,—
“Well, you see, sir—why—I’m not so sure—well—truth to tell, in the first place, I’m not so much of a scholar.”
“Ah, exactly,” said his master; “but that need be no hindrance. I shall be very glad to write for you, if you don’t want to send any secrets, and you’ll only tell me what to say.”
Jacob got very uneasy. The tears came into his eyes. He did not speak for several minutes. At last he said, with much emotion,—